


and on the second day, god made the maserati, and it was good

by weatheredlaw



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Car Sex, Fisting, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is not above singing various lines from bad pop songs out of context, if it means he gets laid faster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and on the second day, god made the maserati, and it was good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rywaen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rywaen/gifts).



> porn trade with one of my darlings! 5harky wanted some kind of car~sex and i was more than happy to deliver. also gave me an excuse to write bruce fisting tony because UNF.

Tony was never a boy scout -- he was never _allowed_ to be a boy scout, so _pedestrian_ , Jesus -- but he's more than willing to live the boy scout motto (and god how fucked up is that to apply it to _this_ he needs help, another shrink, someone with less facial hair, less affinity for corduroy pants probably, too) and be absolutely totally prepared for every situation.

Like, okay. Bruce is coming back from a SHIELD-sponsored human rights watch in Guatemala (why the fuck SHIELD is sponsoring a human rights watch in Guatemala, Tony doesn't a) know or b) care) and Tony fully intends on getting fucked into next week by him in every room they can find and on top of every stable-enough surface they can manage. And yeah, Tony loves this car. Like, _loves_ the Masarati. Wants to marry the Masarati. Tony's _masturbated_ in the Masarati (to pictures of, like, Bruce, texted from his grainy SHIELD phone over a secure port in the middle of the night from a safehouse in Quetzaltenango), but the car doesn't _hurt._

So keeping condoms and lube in his toolbox isn't him being eager, so much as it's him being prepared, because he knows Bruce isn't just carrying this stuff with him, and he knows it's been a good six months since they touched each other, and he knows they're not a _thing_ \-- Tony's got Pepper who has a boyfriend in Tokyo and a willing threesome participant who chills with them every time they're in Montenegro, so it's not like he's been going through a dry spell, or like he doesn't know that Bruce isn't getting his rocks off with some Bolivian hottie who's the head of SHIELD intelligence coming out of South America (because he is and fuck if she isn't gorgeous and Tony isn't sort of jealous).

The point. He's losing it. What is it?

The point is he wants to get boned senseless by his sort-of rage monster boytoy/friend/partner and he's not going to let something like _not having condoms and lube_ stop that from happening. He just isn't.

 

 

So he's all about kissing. Bruce really likes it -- it's the kind of physical contact that he was starved of for ages, didn't let himself really have, and he likes to do it, wet and sloppy and expansive, laying Tony out on whatever he can and kissing every bit of him he can find. And Tony could get lost in it, he really could. He loves Bruce's mouth, the way he wets his lips like a nervous tick and the way his tongue knows just what to do in Tony's mouth and on his dick, too.

It might be his second favorite thing to do, right after complaining that there isn't enough cock going into his ass.

"You're so _pushy_ ," Bruce mutters, but he's hard and straining against his pants and Tony thinks it'd be criminal if he didn't get between them and do something about it, considering he's been basically naked since they started this. Bruce hisses when his cock spills from his open zipper, hit by the cool air that circulates through Tony's workshop. "God I missed this."

"Even when you were cramming it in your Venezuelan girlfriend?"

"Bolivian, Tony. She's Bolivian." He shoves Tony as gently as it is possible to shove someone when you want to get balls-deep inside them before another minute passes, and reaches down into the toolbox at their feet for the lube. "Always prepared."

"I already had an internal monologue with myself about this entire scenario _this morning_ , so let's skip that part and just _holymotherofgodyes_." Tony lets his entire body fall back onto the hood of the car as Bruce unceremoniously shoves a lube-slick finger into Tony's ass, curving it up and drawing it out again. "Good, that's good. Come _on_ , Banner, fuck me like you mean it."

"Yeah? Like I _mean_ it?" Bruce puts a heavy hand on Tony's sternum, keeping him there. "Because, you know, every time before's just been a _fling_ for you, hasn't it?" Tony _whines_ , trying to fuck himself down on the one finger, groaning when he feels a second being pushed in and split. "You want me to put some real effort into it? You want me to turn you inside out? Fuck you into the hood of this car? It's a nice car," he adds, almost as an aside, almost like he's _bored_ with this game already. Tony's panting, ready to beg for it because he isn't below that -- and then Bruce pushes in another and suddenly Tony knows his intent, knows it down to his last neuron.

" _Fuck_ \--"

"You asked for this, you know. But we can always turn back," Bruce says casually, like he isn't pouring more lube onto his hand, and he isn't stretching Tony wider, adding in a forth, thrusting shallowly, then deeper. "Keep it vanilla."

" _Don't_ you _dare_ \--"

"Mmhm." Bruce's cock is hard and red and _gorgeous_ Tony wants to wrap his mouth around it, take it all and feel Bruce curling his hands in his ass, but one thing, just one thing at a time always eager always _needy_ he is. And Bruce knows it. Knows it too well. "Maybe later," he murmurs, following Tony's line of sight straight to the head of his cock. "God, you're so _tight_."

"I don't... _ah_...don't usually have someone's _fist_ going up my ass."

"Duly noted." Bruce tucks his thumb into his palm and curls his fingers, sliding them in deeper and Tony's _stretched_ , he's stretched so wide and he wonders if this is what it's like fucking the Hulk, having his cock so deep when it gets _wider_ , the widest part of Bruce's fist stretching him, pushing him open and he's scrambling up the hood of the car, obscene, wet noises falling out of his mouth, eyes focusing on Bruce's lips, the way they're curved up in a needy, awful grin. Tony realizes he's still wearing his _glasses_ and it murders him inside, absolutely _murders_ him. 

And then it's in, it's totally in and Tony is clenching around him and he feels so _full_ , like he's never going to get tight again. Bruce thrusts his fist in slowly and Tony can see he's hanging on by a thread himself, his cock flush and leaking on his stupid, totally buttoned shirt. And that makes it _better_ , that Tony is naked and _depraved_ looking on the head of a car he's already jacked off in, _thinking_ about Bruce and _thinking_ about what is happening to him right now. He wants to never have sex on top of anything else ever again (a lie) and he wants to have Bruce's cock buried so deep inside him he can feel it for weeks (a truth). 

Tony's dick is aching, throbbing and wanting to be touched so bad he might lose it. Bruce dips low, keeping his thrusts steady, and licks a slow, awkward, sexy as _fuck_ stripe along the line of Tony's cock before giving a few most shallow thrusts. Tony feels the burn of the widest part of Bruce's hand coming out, hears the snap of the condom and then he's _in_ and Tony's howling because _who the hell did he save to earn this?_ He's sore and fucked out already and yeah, he needs to come like he needs to _breathe_ and this is torture, it's total, _complete_ torture -- 

but it's _Bruce_. Bruce is with him, inside him, touching him, talking to him, pressing him hard into the hood of the car. He's _here_ and Tony's been waiting for him -- like one dog waits on another but _waiting_ in the only way Tony knows how -- and he just wants to clutch Bruce to his chest and never let him go, not right now, not ever again. He knows he can't, he knows in a few weeks Bruce will get antsy and nervous and head somewhere else, maybe for SHIELD, maybe on his own -- doesn't matter. He'll be gone and Tony will wonder if there's ever going to be a thing he can do to get him to stay state-side for more than a month. He knows there isn't, but it doesn't stop him from trying.

"Thought about you so much," Bruce manages, panting against Tony's collarbone, reaching between them and jerking his dick. "Just...just like _this_. Wanted you so bad. Wanted you _in me_."

"Next time, green bean."

"I hate you," Bruce groans and thrusts hard. Tony's almost silent with the need to come, the need to release. "Want you to come...come on--" 

"God yes." Bruce nods and pulls out and Tony feels _empty_ so empty before Bruce jerks him onto his stomach and grabs his hips, shoving Tony back onto his cock. He reaches forward and ruthlessly jerks him off, three, four thrusts -- and Tony comes against the hood of the car, which is what he fucking _wanted_ , wanted to make a mess he'd have to clean up, remind himself of getting fucked and of _Bruce_ finally being back and Bruce wanting him and Bruce giving in and being _wanted._ He feels Bruce's hips jerk hard against him, slips against the hood in his own come as Bruce leans on his back, the zipper of his pants biting strangely against Tony's ass, his scratchy cotton shirt hot on Tony's back.

Tony rasps, "Welcome home," and Bruce laughs, soft and tired and finally pulls out. Tony's going to be aching for days and it doesn't even matter. He's also going to insist on tying Bruce to his bed, too, but that's part of the terms they'll negotiate after another round in the elevator, maybe some coffee and a quickie in the living room. It's going to be an _obscene_ three weeks. Like a sex-cation, or a retreat where people communicate with their dicks. He makes a mental note to found something like that once he's retired, a commune in the woods where people just fuck.

"Hey. Come back here," Bruce murmurs. He's finally stripping out of his sweaty clothes, taking his shirt to the sink in the workshop and getting it wet. "Good enough?" he asks, grinning and pushing the soaking wet fabric into Tony's trembling, needy hands.

"Yeah," he croaks, and Bruce watches him as he cleans the hood of the car, stroking his elbow and babbling about Guatemala and his Bolivian SHIELD princess.

"Let's go to bed," Bruce says quietly, when Tony's tossed the shirt to the floor and the hood is clean (enough) for Tony to be satisfied. 

Tony smiles and pulls him close. "Mmm, let's make out first and _then_ go to bed."

Bruce murmurs, "Same thing," and leans in for another around.


End file.
